"How was the royal romp, Your Grace? Or should I just stick to 'Vyan' and save us both from the pretse?" Clyde could not resist a jab as soon as Vyan erged from the imperial court.
Vyan, ever the eye-roller in the face of Clyde's theatrics, shot back, "Oh, by all ans, stick to 'Vyan.' You will butcher the formalities, anyway."
"But my dear protégé," Clyde protested with a flourish, "the public demands a show of respect! It is all about the pomp and circumstance, you see."
"Ah, yes, because nothing says 'respect' like sarcasm and backhanded complimts," Vyan retorted.
Clyde remained undeterred by Vyan's sass and leaned in with all the subtlety of a nosy neighbor. "Co on, spill the royal tea. What's the verdict?"
"Well…" Vyan channeled his inner drama que and drew out the suspse like a seasoned theater actor, while Clyde's eager anticipation was botherso, his eyes practically twinkling with impatice.
Finally, unable to resist the urge to play along any longer, Vyan relted. "Well, drumroll, please... It is official. You may now address as 'Your Grace,' or, for an additional fee, 'Your Awesoss.'"
Clyde, who was trailing behind Vyan like a hyperactive shadow, could not contain his thusiasm and gave a dramatic vow worthy of a true aide. "Congratulations, Your Awesoss! You have truly outdone yourself this ti!"
Vyan basked in the glow of his newfound title and responded with a nonchalant shrug, "Oh, you know, just another day in the life of sheer brilliance."
"But seriously, did the emperor say sothing to have you sweating bullets in there?" Clyde prodded.
Vyan waved off Clyde's concern with all the confidce of a cat sauntering past a dog park. "Please, I practiced ough to charm the socks off a snake. His Majesty would not stand a chance."
"Anything juicy the emperor threw your way?" Clyde pressed for more details.
Vyan smirked, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "As predicted, he wants to have tea with while scrutinizing like a flower he is not sure he wants in his gard."
"Wh does the royal tea ti start with your favorite person in the world start?" Clyde teased.
"Today."
"My, he is more paranoid of you than a squirrel hoarding nuts for winter," Clyde quipped.
"If only you could have se the look on his face wh he laid eyes on ," Vyan chuckled, flicking the earring dangling from his right ear. It was a gift from Bedict, who claid it was the sa single earring his father sported daily ever since his Grand Duke days. "That old bastard looked like he had bitt into a sour grapevine and couldn't spit it out."
"Are you sure you should be slinging insults at the emperor while standing in his own palace?" Clyde tried to be the voice of reason—or at least, attempted reason—and raised an eyebrow.
"Relax, I have cast a soundproof spell." Vyan brushed Clyde's words with a dismissive gesture. "If anyone overhears, they will just think I am boasting about my impeccable taste in accessories."
Clyde feigned a dramatic momt and placed a hand over his heart. "My protégé, you have surpassed ev my wildest expectations."
But Vyan simply ignored Clyde's dramatics and sauntered forward.
"Jokes aside, are you sure you are ready for the emperor's inquisition?" Clyde's tone shifted, guine concern lacing his words.
Vyan's smirk wided into a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat's. "Oh, I'm more than ready."
———
Lounging at a circular tea table beath a pavilion, a sanctuary within the emperor's sprawling gard, Edgar inquired, "So, Grand Duke, can you pull rabbits out of hats?" His smile was as radiant as the sun dappling through the gard's foliage.
"Alas, Your Imperial Majesty, I am bereft of such talts," Vyan replied with a touch of theatrical sorrow, a mask of disappointmt shadowing his features.
Edgar's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Really now? Not ev a simple card trick?"
"I am afraid not," Vyan sighed, as if carrying the weight of cturies-old family sha on his shoulders. "It is a rather embarrassing stain on my lineage. I am as magically gifted as a particularly dull spoon."
Edgar's eyes glead with intrigue. "Do you possess the documtation to substantiate this claim?"
"At prest, regrettably not. However, my mana proficicy certificate should reside within the archives of House Estelle. You see, I once served there in a knightly capacity," Vyan elaborated.
"Though, truth be told," he added with a self-deprecating chuckle, "I was a rather dismal excuse for a knight. Turns out, divine ergy did not find worthy either."
While mana was inhert, divine ergy was an accolade achieved through rigorous training—a testamt to a knight's prowess and experice. For Vyan, however, it remained an elusive prize until his tutelage under Sir Theodore Jacques. But the emperor didn't have to know about that part.
Edgar's smile remained fixed in place as he casually probed, "But isn't it a curious anomaly? There has not be a sprout in the Ashstone family tree who could not weave the threads of magic."
"I suppose I am simply the black sheep," Vyan sighed, his words punctuated by a delicate sip of tea. "Whispers from my loyal subjects suggest an old stargazer foretold my mana misfortune at the momt of my birth."
"Oh? Pray, do tell," Edgar leaned in with curiosity like that of a gossipmonger.
"What do I tell, Your Imperial Majesty," Vyan let out a heavy sigh, "wh it seems like the heavs have conspired against . As you very well know, my dear parts were a veritable duo of magical and aura prowess. Unfortunately, they inadverttly canceled each other out. Their pott bld of mana and divine ergy left high and dry. Quite the cosmic joke, wouldn't you say?"
"And your elder sibling escaped this cosmic jest?" Edgar's brow furrowed in contemplation.
"That's because my dear mother did not gain her aura until after my brother's arrival into the world," Vyan explained with a wistful expression.
Edgar acted like he was struck by a bolt of sympathetic lightmt and nodded sagely. "It all falls into place now. So, no mana, huh?"
Vyan shook his head like a disappointed part at a child's misadvture.
"Th, extd your hand," Edgar declared with a determined glint in his eye.
Vyan extded his hand without hesitation, mories of Clyde's assessing his mana at their first eting flashed into his mind. Only the most skilled and astute mages could gauge mana pottial with such precision through a simple touch.
As the sunlight danced upon the silver bracelet adorning Vyan's wrist, the emperor found naught but emptiness within, while Vyan easily discerned the faint trickle of mana coursing through Edgar's veins.
Tch, such a weak flow of mana… This man would be no match for if we fought head on, Vyan thought to himself.
On the offside, ev if Edgar had boasted formidable magical prowess, Vyan's mana would have remained elusive to his sses.
After months of toil and experimtation, Vyan and Clyde birthed a bracelet capable of containing mana within its wearer—especially a mana pottial as vast as Vyan's. It was a feat achieved through tireless labor and Clyde's expertise honed within the Tower of Magic.
Though initially Vyan was an observer, curiosity inevitably drew him into the crafting process and he ca to fall in love with magical creation.
"It is truly remarkable how devoid you are of mana," Edgar remarked, a hearty chuckle punctuating his relief. The ergce of the Ashstone scion posed no threat to his rule; Vyan's lack of magical or divine prowess sured his status as a re vessel—ripe for manipulation.
"I trust you are not regretting bestowing upon the title of Grand Duke?" Vyan asked, a sardonic twist to his words.
Had his family still drawn breath, Vyan would undoubtedly have be deed a disgrace. Yet, to Edgar, this appart inadequacy proved a blessing—an assurance of loyalty from a pawn incapable of challging his sovereignty.
"Of course not! You are akin to a harmless little kitt, Grand Duke, and who doesn't adore such delightful creatures?" Edgar chuckled, his laughter ringing through the air.
"I must confess, I have a soft spot for kitts myself as well," Vyan admitted with a grin.
"Giv your unfortunate circumstances, I believe a lavish celebration is in order for your newfound elevation!" Edgar declared with infectious rrimt.
"Your Imperial Majesty, it is truly not necessary—" Vyan attempted to protest.
"Nonsse! It is not every day we welco a new Grand Duke into the fold, is it? A cause for jubilation, indeed!" Edgar exclaid, his thusiasm palpable. "We are hosting a grand soirée tomorrow eving, and every esteed noble in the empire shall be in attdance. I will not take no for an answer from you."
Vyan feigned a resigned sigh before offering a gracious smile. "Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. I would be honored to partake in such festivities."
"Oh, and before I forget, I will need your mana proficicy certificate from House Estelle. I will have one of my aides fetch it," Edgar mtioned offhandedly.
"If it pleases Your Imperial Majesty, may I have the privilege of retrieving it myself?" Vyan proposed politely. "You see, I hold deep gratitude for their hospitality over the years. It feels only right to pay them a personal visit."
Edgar paused, his lips quirking in thought before he chuckled. "Certainly, that's no trouble at all."
"Thank you," Vyan smiled warmly, his eyes alight with appreciation. "Oh, if I may add, Your Imperial Majesty, your taste in tea is truly exquisite. The aroma alone is ough to transport one to another realm."
"Finally, a connoisseur of fine tea!" Edgar exclaid with delight, his joviality shining through. "Easton, bless him, would not know a milk tea from a chamomile. He gulps it down as if it were re water," he lamted, prompting a chuckle from Vyan.
As Edgar regaled him with tales and anecdotes, Vyan nodded along atttively, interjecting with flattering remarks to keep the emperor's ego well-fed.
"It has be an absolute pleasure conversing with you, Grand Duke," Edgar declared, rising from his seat.
"The honor was truly mine, Your Imperial Majesty," Vyan replied with a respectful bow.
"Why don't you join for tea every Monday? Consider it a standing invitation," Edgar suggested with a gial smile.
"As you wish, Your Imperial Majesty," Vyan acquiesced with a defertial nod.
"Very well. I will see you at the soirée tomorrow," Edgar bid his farewell.
As Vyan watched the emperor's retreating figure, a self-assured smirk played upon his lips. He had adeptly navigated the delicate art of flattery, earning a modicum of trust from the seemingly weak-willed ruler.
Alone amidst the verdant gard, Vyan murmured to himself, "So I am a harmless little kitt, hmm? Very well, let's embrace that facade, at least for the ti being."
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